


We Never Found The Answer (But We Knew One Thing)

by j_gabrielle



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Moodboard Inspired, Sheriff!Hank, Teen!Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-04 18:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15153104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: “You wanna tell me why I caught you loitering outside my house at three in the morning?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://hardheartshere.tumblr.com/post/175391425064/moodboard-inspiration-hank-x-connor-new)
> 
> I'm tagging this as Underage because Connor is 17 in the first chapter, though there'll be a time jump in the second part. Don't @ me.

Hank slides the plate of warm apple pie and vanilla ice-cream over to Connor. The kid doesn’t even look up, accepting the plate with a soft thank you.

“You wanna tell me why I caught you loitering outside my house at three in the morning?” Connor’s hand on the fork tightens and the scars on the back of his hand catch in the light over his kitchen counter.

“You already know why.” Connor sniffs, shovelling a generous scoop of pie and ice-cream into his mouth like he wants to avoid talking.

Hank sighs. Takes a slice of the pie for himself with a good scoop of ice-cream on top. “And you know why you shouldn’t be hanging out in the Sheriff’s bushes at three in the morning.” He raises an eyebrow. “Listen, Connor. You’re-“

“If you are trying to give me the whole ‘you’re just a kid so you don’t know what you want’ spiel, save it. Elijah already lectured me on it.” Connor hunches into himself.

Hank swallows. He isn’t blind. At 17, Connor’s beautiful and Hank’s flattered, but he has his entire life ahead to find someone who isn’t a jaded, borderline alcoholic Sheriff of a sleepy New England town that is three times his age. He opens his mouth to say as much, only to have Connor stare him down.

“I like you.” Connor says with finality. “I like you a lot. More than a lot, actually. And yeah, maybe I need to do some growing up, but I’ll always like you. And I will show you that one day. Then maybe one day you’ll like me too.” He ducks his head, setting his fork down on the plate. “Thanks for the pie.”

He stands and starts to leave when Hank jerks to his feet, going round to catch him by the hand. His old heart pounding like a snare drum, he looks down to where their hands meet, neither one pulling away.

“Elijah home tonight?” Hank asks after a beat. Connor shakes his head, eyes shining dark in the early morning shadows of the house. “Okay. Okay, just. Take the couch. It’s late. Or early, depending on how you look at it, and I don’t want you walking out there by yourself. I’ll get you some blankets.” The corner of Connor’s lips twitch in amusement when Hank makes no move to let go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://hardheartshere.tumblr.com/post/175569259783/moodboard-inspiration-hank-x-connor-new)

Connor is as beautiful at 26 as he was at 17.

He’s grown into his slender frame, wielding it with uncanny awareness; flitting between sweet and shy innocence, and the ruthless tack of intelligence that has helped them close more than a few cold cases since he came back to town and joined the local police force.

Hank keeps his cool through it all. Connor looks good in his freshly pressed uniform. And he has had more than a share of the local grannys trying to set him up with their granddaughters. Most of the guys around the station, at the news that Connor will be joining them, had teased Hank relentlessly about the kid who ran around for years with a big crush on the town Sheriff. But looking at Connor now, he isn’t that kid anymore. Hank tells himself it was for the better. Connor deserves better.

So he shook Connor’s hand when he reported for duty, introduced him formally to the rest of the station and endured the quiet teasing smiles. The true hell of it all is that Connor’s desk is the one that faces the Sheriff’s office. A direct line of sight to Hank whenever he looks up. It was strange, those first couple of weeks, to have and to see Connor on the daily again after a period of time apart. Connor, for his part, carries himself quietly. A far difference from the kid vibrating with energy even when standing still. Yet, it is one that is familiar at the same time. Hank has had time to rewind to that night he found Connor in his bushes at three a.m, after all.

“Drinks?” Connor knocks on his door, jerking at the doors where the night shift officers were lingering round with their day counterparts as they are leaving. Hank nods, because why not.

They join a couple of the others for a drink at Jimmy’s. While the others prod and poke Connor for a story about his life since he left town; did he like DC? (yeah), did he have anyone in his life? (no) (they kept side eyeing Hank the whole night after this question), where’s he staying now that Elijah has moved to California? (currently still at Kara’s inn on Main Street, but is working on renting a place of his own), Hank takes a moment to drink Connor in. The way he’s lost the baby cheeks, angled now with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. Those dark eyes are guarded and careful, even when he smiles.

Then one of the dipshits says that Hank’s just renovated a spare room over his garage, why doesn’t he just stay there? “If that’s okay?” Connor asks, wide eyed and unsure, his youth bleeding back into fore.

“Yeah, that’ll be fine.” Hank coughs out. And that was that.

They make a trip to Kara’s to get his bags and then they’re driving up the road to Hank’s place. “Hank? Is this going to be weird?” Connor asks in the quiet of the car as it pulls into his drive.

“Not unless you make it, kid. Now c’mon. I’m too old to be carrying your shit.” The careful and tenous unspoken thing between them lasts all of three weeks until Hank walks out of his bathroom in nothing but a towel, and catches sight of the way Connor looks at him.

He pauses then in his steps, water dripping down his back. “Stop me if I’m wrong.” Hank says as he walks to crowd Connor against the door to his room. “God, please let me not be wrong about this.”

Connor swallows visibly, reaching up to touch Hank’s cheek. “You’re not.”

“I’ve waited for this.”

Connor sighs, a soft stuttering sound. “Me too.” Hank huffs, leaning in to press mouth against mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably come back to look through this with a fine toothed comb, but for now, this is not beta read.

**Author's Note:**

> You can leave me some moodboard requests [Here](http://hardheartshere.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
